Ice Eyes A Redwall Tale
by IceTeaWriter
Summary: This is the story of a young, female otter named Jem, whose life is destroyed by the arrival of Smargren Dagra, the evil pine martin corsair. Her life and happiness, as well as others', is at stake as long as the corsair captain is alive...
1. Deadly Spring Days

Disclaimer: I do not own any Redwall characters mentioned in this story that have been mentioned in any other person's story or anywhere in the Redwall series. I only claim the characters of my own imagination—wholly original characters like Jem, Lignutt, Smargren, etc.  
  
Enjoy the story—and tell me what you thought of it! Thanks again!  
  
Chapter 1  
  
The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Brilliant hues of yellow, orange, pink, and purple shone brightly as a new day began. It was the first day of spring in Mossflower. All over the woodlands flowers sprung up and birds sang and twittered happily to one another. Crocuses, daffodils, irises, and goldenrods were just becoming visible in the nearby meadows. Streams and brooks gurgled happily and ripples moved over pond water as fish moved restlessly. A light, gentle breeze sent delicious scents floating through the air as dewdrops lay glistening on the beautiful scenery. The woodlands were coming alive after a long, sleepy winter.  
Miles and miles away, near Mossflower's border, a lone hawk flew high over a small clearing, while on her way back to her nest. The sound of crying suddenly reached her as she passed over the northern part of the meadow. Startled and curious the hawk wheeled back to fly once more over the small clearing. As she glided lower she saw what she had not been able to see while flying higher up; a day old battlefield, and in the center, surrounded by the bloodied grass, sat a large group of corsairs, a little over three score. To the side was a big cage filled with wounded and crying beasts, the survivors of the families that had once lived peacefully in the meadow. A tall pine martin with black and red war paint on and dressed in fine armor, made of gold and bronze, stood up from among the corsairs and started yelling out orders. "Shatdog, Ripear, Muglit, Spikkle! Take a dozen with you and gather supplies. Heness and Jawda take some beasts with you and gather firewood for camp tonight." Knowing that she couldn't do much against three score of corsairs, the hawk sorrowfully wheeled away and began flying northward once again. Back on the ground, the selected corsairs moved calmly and proficiently, doing as they were ordered. The remaining corsairs, those who were not ordered to gather food or firewood, sat about talking or sharpening their blades and fixing weapons that had been damaged during the battle. Two of the few stoats in the motley array of vermin, were sitting on a large, almost flat rock that jutted out in the otherwise flat meadow, grumbling about the recently battle as they sharpened their spearheads. "Tha' battle ain' erned us notin' but bruithis's and bumpths. I can 'ardly talk cauths a big sthuirrel hit me nothse and mousth with 'is thling," the smaller of the two stoats groaned as he put his spear down and began gingerly patting dock leaves and mud on his injured, swollen face. The larger stoat, a slow, dim-witted beast named Dirttail, cocked is head to one side and inclined his ear toward his companion, "Ehh! What's this matey? A swirl hit yourn toes and mouse with a swing? Are ya sure you wasn't hit in the head Blugg? Ya look 'n like ya got hit in the mouth and nose and yar talkin' funny." The smaller one, Blugg, rolled his eyes, well he rolled only one, the other was swollen shut, and growled, "I wasth hit by a sthquirrel in the fathe like I told ya, nitbwain!" Missing his fellow stoat's name-calling and exasperation Dirttail brightened up with realization, nodding, "Ohh yus was hit by a squirrel in the face. Ya sure are swollen up." Scraping his spearhead on the rock face to his right he again missed his companion's sarcastic and irritated look. "You litt'el 'thupid blunderer. You can do a thing,"Blug muttered under his breath. Talking louder though not too loud, Blugg said lamenting another result of the battle, "And we wathn't givin' any booty neither! E'en though we's got injured." Dirttail agreeded, nodding good naturedly, "Yup Blug matey, I didna get a bit of plunder either, Capt'an got the bit that we did get, a couple trinkets and slaves. Now the slaves canna do much for us now can they?" The two jumped as a third voice, cultured and rigidly cold, answered Dirttail's question. "Slaves build ships. As stupid as you are I would think that that much would be obvious." The two vermin, turned to see Hilth, the "Captain's" nephew, leaning casually against their rock, deftly twirling a knife in one paw. The two gulped as they eyed the blade and then looked guilty into the eyes of the handsome, young pine martin standing before them. Seeing the two beasts fearful and apprehensive looks Hilth chuckled evilly, "Ohh no, don't worry. I won't tell my dear uncle of such prattling. I'm sure you were just kidding, now weren't you mateys." The two stoats nodded hurriedly, Blugg's messy dock leave and mud poultice falling off in his alacrity. Hilth smiled, a hint of menace now entered his voice as he began sharpening his blade on the rock, "Now I suggest you stop lazing about and get to work. Blugg go and help guard the slaves. And Dirttail if I were you I'd go off and gather supplies. Surely a beast such as yourself could make himself useful—no matter your lack of brains. You would do better off hunting than sitting around. No doubt my uncle would enjoy some perch or young fish for dinner tonight." The two stoats nodded quickly again, scrambled off the rock as they did. As Hilth watched them dash off in different directions he laughed again. Settling more comfortably on the sun warmed rock he closed his eyes dreaming ambitiously of becoming "Captain Hilth", the fiercest beast upon the high seas.  
The sixteen corsairs and the battered, wounded group of survivors, mainly mice and squirrels, with a couple moles, arrived after close to an hour. They looked pitiful; all of them were dirty, wounded, and scared. Some were weeping softly and only a few beasts had the defiant look of an unbroken beast. For long moments the group of beasts stood there. Tension grew as more time past. The younger beasts in the group began to cry as the fierce, scarred corsairs stared impassively at the slaves. Their mothers tried to shush them as the taller pine martin suddenly appeared from behind a clump of trees. He was a half head taller than any of them and they could see the powerful muscles and shoulders rippling under his dark brown fur as he walked toward the group, seemingly cloaked in powerful aura of dominance and cruelty. The morning sun shimmered off an array of ornate blades stuck into his snakeskin belt, but the pine martin's eyes were what captivated them. Those evil, hard, golden hued eyes, that were blank of any emotion other than malice, were staring on in amused ruthlessness. The many young beasts huddled closer to their mothers as the vermin leader began to address the group in a clear, cultured voice icy as the north winds.  
"You are my slaves now, fight me and I will make you wish you were dead by the time I'm done with you. Disobey me and you die. Even attempt to rebel and I will crush you. Remember this, you are mine, to work, kill, or torture, whenever wherever. You have no freedom." Smargren's gold-flecked eyes looked over the slaves. He smiled sinisterly as he asked the group, "Which one of you is the leader?"  
An old male squirrel with angry black eyes standing near the front of the slave group stepped forward and answered in a gruff voice, "I am."  
The evil pine martin smiled again, this time in evil amusement. "Do you hate me old one? I can see that you do. Want to take revenge on me squirrel? What is your name?" "Lignutt." "Well Lignutt, are some of these beasts," he said scornfully, motioning to the rest of the slaves, "family members?"  
"No." The old squirrel said quietly.  
"I believe some are," Smargren said in a chilly voice. The pine martin snapped his fingers and instantly two of his crew grabbed a beast from among the slaves and dragged it forward. It was a pretty squirrel maid wearing a worn and tattered autumn colored dress tied with a green sash. The pine martin turned to the older squirrel, his features becoming hard and cruel.  
"You lie. Do you think that I am blind and don't have spies! I am Smargren Dagra the Ruthless One! I am not to be lied to! From the first I knew you had a granddaughter! Foolishness has a price and yours has just cost you very dear." In a flash Smargren grabbed the squirrelmaid and ran her through. A gasp of surprise and horror arose from the spectators as young ones screamed in fear and clutched their mothers.  
The old squirrel fell next to his unmoving granddaughter on the now crimson grass, sobbing and crying heartbrokenly, "My little maid. My darling Katra." The others stood there in a sickened silence not daring to move in case it caught Smargren's notice. Turning to his corsairs and his new slaves he said in a harsh voice, "Let this be a lesson to you. Lie to me and your punishment will be far worse than this. Be it corsair or slave: if you disobey me, you will pay. Killfer, Shatdog, Spittle, Muglit. Take the slaves back to the pen." He watched as the corsairs dragged the old squirrel and the other slaves back to the wooden cage, his gold-hazel eyes following their every movement. 


	2. Escapee!

Chapter 2  
  
A couple of hours after twilight a great commotion arose by the slave pens. Yells and shouts woke up Smargren and the other corsairs. All of them jumped up from beside their campfires reaching for their weapons in the process. They rushed over to the slave enclosure. Within seconds the pine martin had assessed the situation; one of the prisoners, the old squirrel, had escaped. In a slightly trembling voice that betrayed his growing fury Smargren spoke over the noise of the crew and slaves, "Hilth, report to me." The only other pine martin in the whole band was Hilth, Smargren's nephew. He was second in command and looked exactly like his uncle, save his eyes, which were an ordinary liquid brown. The young pine martin made his way through the crowd of corsairs.  
"Yes Ruthless One."  
Walking a short ways from the group of beasts, Smargren Dagra addressed the younger pine martin, "How did this happen! Who was doing guard duty for the slaves?"  
"Stin, the weasel."  
"Bring him here, now. I see that a little demonstration is in order. Bring the slaves to the main campfire. Send out a dozen of our beasts, all our best trackers after Stin is dealt with. The squirrel is old but he knows this area. He will probably be hidden in the forest." As Hilth turned away to follow his uncle's orders, a blade flashed in front of him. A strong paw clamped onto the back of his neck as Smargren whispered in a chilly voice, "Don't forget Hilth I have a reputation to up hold." Smargren dismissed his nephew and sat on a rock, polishing his silver handled dagger. He continued to sit as the guard, Stin, was brought up, shaking uncontrollably. Without looking at the weasel, Smargren began to sharpen his dagger. "Stin, a slave escaped. We can't have this happen, now can we." Pointing the blade at the trembling weasel the pine martin looked into Stin's terror filled eyes. "Do you want to live?" Stin nodded his head quickly. "I am willing to forgive this error, if, if you are able to defeat me in battle." Stin's eyes widened, first in surprise and then in terror. Smargren was lethal with any kind of weapon, while he, Stin, was only a moderate swordbeast. Smargren's supposed show of mercy was only a cruel joke, a hopeless battle. "We will fight by the slave pen. Stin get what ever weapon you desire." All the corsairs and slaves formed a circle around the two combatants by the main campfire. The firelight gleamed against Smargren's curved blade. His eyes shimmered in the light turning them a bright gold color. He smiled slightly showing pearly white fangs. Stin arrived in his hands he held an old but serviceable spear and shield. Stin was shaking even more then he had before, barely able to hold onto his spear because of his sweaty paws. His eyes were filled with fear as his captain said icily, "Let us begin." The two combatants circled blade and spear held ready. Suddenly Smargren darted forward with the speed of a striking snake, his sword taking the tip off the weasel's left ear. The next second Smargren lunged back, his eyes cruel and amused. The weasel lowered his shield slightly and charged. Smargren sidestepped and hit the weasel with the flat of his sword as Stin's momentum carried him past the pine martin. The weasel turned and charged again, his spear aimed at the pine martin's heart. Smargren knocked the weapon away with his sword and kicked the weasel down. Stin jumped up as fast as he could, but he could not escape his leader's blade. The sword came whistling down and took the rest of the weasel's left ear. With a howl Stin dropped his shield and spear falling on bended knee before the tall pine martin while nursing his stump of an ear.  
"Mercy, Sire! Please! I won' do anythin' wrong ever again! I promise!" Weeping the weasel begged repeatedly for mercy. Smargren's eyes were hard as flint as he spoke softly to the kneeling beast, "You ask for mercy---I am not merciful." The last thing the weasel saw before Smargren swung his sword was the pine martin's satisfied smile.  
It was dead silent as Smargren spit on his former turned from Stin's still body to the horrified onlookers. He looked at the stunned beasts and said in a loud voice, "That will be you lying at my feet if you make any mistakes." With a swirl of his cloak, the vermin leader walked back to his bed by the fire.  
  
Deep in the forest the old squirrel, Lignutt, was running as fast as he could away from the corsairs and their evil leader. His breath was heavy and ragged; he had been running all night. He ducked under a low hanging tree branch, almost tripping over a rock. An ache began to build in his side and paws yet he staggered on. Thinking he heard paw steps behind him, he tried to run even faster, fearing it would be Smargren Dagra, coming after him. Everything became blurry from tears as he remembered the look on his daughter's face before she was killed and the calm, deadly voice of the pine martin sneering, 'Never lie to me again'. The recent memories of the early morning flashed through his mind. Suddenly, Lignutt tripped over a large tree root and he went sprawling. His head hit against a large stone and he was knocked out instantly. As he lay there unconscious several bright eyes appeared in the darkness.  
  
Far away to the west lay the mountain Salamandastron. The badger lord, Russano the Wise, grimaced slightly as he looked out to sea. Where is he? The badger lord thought worriedly. The corsair, Smargren, and his crew were missing. Their ship, Wavebane, had not been seen for a full season. "Where is he?" Russano murmured.  
"He who, sire?" A curious voice behind the badger asked. Lord Russano turned around to face a young, bright-eyed leveret.  
"Never mind, Frey. It is nothing you have to worry about. Head over to breakfast if you want."  
"You don't have to ask me twice, sir." With a smart salute, the young hare whirled around and trotted off to the mess hall. Russano smiled and shook his head. Turning to the window to look at the sea he sighed. It would do no good to brood, he knew, but he had to find the pine martin. The corsair was pure evil, merciless, and cruel. He would enslave or kill any beast he found, like all vermin. Turning away from the window, the large badger walked off to the mess hall for breakfast. 


	3. Missed Strawberries and Warnings

> Disclaimer: I do not own any Redwall characters mentioned in this story that have been mentioned in any other person's story or anywhere in the Redwall series. I only claim the characters of my own imagination—wholly original characters like Jem, Lignutt, Smargren, etc.  
  
Enjoy the story—and tell me what you thought of it! Thanks again!  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Abbess Mhera sighed contentedly as she gazed at the serene calm of her beloved home. Redwall was the only home she had known and she loved it. The aged sandstone walls, built by many beasts long ago, glittered faintly with dew, as the light from the sun grew stronger. The day was just beginning and all the Abbeybeasts were still asleep, all except her brother Deyna, and his close friend, Nimbalo. She sighed happily, breathing in the cool, sweetness of early morning. Life seemed so perfect. Just a short year ago, her long lost brother Deyna had found his way back to Redwall Abbey. She sat in the Abbey orchard gazing at the spring produce. Consumed with her thoughts she did not realize that somebeast was sneaking up behind her. Without warning Mhera felt her foot paws leave the damp grass. She shrieked as she was lifted high in the air. When Mhera saw who it was she laughed. "Deyna! You overgrown water walloper, put me down! How am I supposed to be dignified if you're forever sneaking up on me, scarin' me out of my wits?" The Abbey Warrior laughed also and gently deposited his older sister on the grass. "So you're trying to be 'dignified', ehh! "Yes, for your information I am Deyna." The two otters sat on the grass side by side enjoying the morning air. Mhera began to speak again as the Abbey bells were tolled, telling everybeast to get up. "Where is Nimablo? I thought he was with you earlier this morning." Deyna smiled, "Oh, he's around." Mhera was mystified at her brother's unusual secretiveness. "What do you mean 'he's around---Ahh!" Mhera yelped as the harvest mouse in question jumped out from behind a nearby raspberry bush. She berated the two trying to keep a stern face. They were rolling around on the ground laughing hysterically, "Oh you two. Don't you have anything to do besides scare me to death? You're acting like dibbuns." Suddenly Mhera slipped on the grass and fell flat on her behind. The three laughed until the sound of their merriment echoed off the rosy tinged walls. After a short while, when they were able to stop laughing, they stood up and brushed pieces of grass off their habits. As the three began walking into the Abbey, Tilla, a tiny mousemaid, came running over. "Muvver Abbess, Muvver Abbess. Missus Tuckel be needin' you righta now. She wan'ed for me to tell you befor' bekfist began." Mhera smiled at the small dibbun, "Thank you Tilla. Go on to breakfast, tell them to begin without me." As the little mouse dashed off to give those in the great hall the message, Mhera began walking to the kitchens, talking to her brother and Nimbalo who had decided to accompany her to the kitchens. "I wonder what Tuckel wants to talk to me about? It must be important if she wanted to talk to me before breakfast began." Deyna and Nimablo smiled at one another, knowing why Missus Tuckel wanted to speak to the Abbess. The Abbey Warrior grinned as the young harvest mouse did cartwheels across the lawn. In a silly, energetic voice Nimbalo danced around the two Abbey leaders.  
  
In only two days it will be time,  
And all of Redwall shall splendidly dine.  
It'll be our seasonal Nameday Feast,  
Meaning lots of fun for every beast.  
  
Mhera gasped, taken completely by surprise, "Ohh no, the Nameday feast. I completely forgot! It is only in two days! Goodness, that's why Tuckel wants to talk to me; I hope she and Leana will be able to manage everything. I bet mother will help, you know how she loves to cook."  
Deyna smiled down at his sister, "Don't worry O beautiful sister of mine," impishly he remarked, "Or should I say Mother Abbess." He ducked a swat from Mhera as she chuckled.  
"Go on to breakfast you two. Tell everyone I'll be coming shortly after I talk to Cook Tuckel." She watched as her brother and Nimablo trotted off, so happy that she had her brother was here to stay at Redwall.  
  
Back in the Abbey, the Great Hall was filled with the Abbey residents: squirrels, mice, moles, otters, and hedgehogs. Food of all kinds and descriptions covered long wooden tables set up in the spacious hall. The tables were laden with hotroot soup, deeper than ever pies, immense salads, scones smothered in butter, tasty puddings, and various breads. October Ale, strawberry cordial, mint tea, and dandelion burdock also accompanied the delicious food. As they ate the scrumptious fare, the Abbey beasts commented on the food and everyday things as they scolded the Abbey young ones, also known as dibbuns, who often played with their food instead of eating it.  
"Urr, this em be furst roite deeper 'en ever pie, bain't it Brundil."  
"Hey! Hundie come back 'er ya little rip. No, no don't you dare! That's Leana's puddin'. You've still gotta eat your salad."  
"Don't wanna 'ave salad. Tastes yucky! Me lika puddin' better."  
"Jad matey, try this hotroot soup. It's the best that I've ever tasted!"  
"Trelen are you an' Missus Tuckel takin' the liddle ones strawberry picking?"  
"Yes I'm sorry ta say we are. Those little rogues will give us no rest. At least one of those liddle uns will try to run off, mark my words."  
"By the spike I wouldn't take on those rascals for all the October ale in the Abbey cellars."  
The banter continued as Mhera entered the Great Hall, taking her place at the head of the table. Greetings were called out to her as she began to pile her favorite foods on her plate.  
"Good day to ye marm. Beautiful day isn't it."  
"Yes it sure is Windtip."  
"Good morning Mother Abbess."  
"Good morning Sister Athel."  
"Muver Abbess taste soma the strawbee cordial. It is wunnerful."  
"Thank you Frigg. Oh your right the cordial is delicious."  
After giving everyone time to finish his or her food Mhera stood up and clapped her paws together to get their attention. "Excuse me everyone. I have a wonderful announcement to make. In two days we will have our Nameday feast----." She was interrupted as all the dibbuns whooped in delight. Namedays meant delicious food, games, and staying up later than usual, something every young beast in Redwall enjoyed. Mhera smiled and began speaking once again as things quieted down, "As I was saying in two days we will have our Nameday feast. I have not thought up a name yet but as soon as I think up a good one I'll announce it to everybeast. I also have yet another announcement to make, one that you young ones might like to hear." The room was deathly quiet as the dibbuns sat very still, anxious to hear the news. "Missus Tuckel and Brother Trelen are going to take all the dibbuns strawberry picking today." The hall erupted with loud cheers from the dibbuns as low groans came from the older beasts. The grown beasts smiled at their young ones who were dancing around in anticipation and excitement.  
"Whoopee! Strawbee pickin'. I love strawbees."  
"Yippee! Wes a goin strawberry picknin."  
"Ha! By my rudder glad I'm not goin to take that lot picking. They'll be bouncing off the walls."  
"Hurr an' um trees too!" "Gurr, boi hokey. Thems liddle rips be very exciterted."  
"I hope I'm not the beast who has to give them baths when they come back. They get terribly messy."  
Abbess Mhera smiled and asked for quiet once more, "Everyone can now go about their duties. Dibbuns please go up to the dormitories and make your beds," The dibbuns trotted up the stairs. "Trelen, Tuckel I believe you leave with the dibbuns in a short while."  
"Yes we do marm. Right after we get the baskets and food for the trip," Tuckel replied.  
"It should only take a moment to gather everything though," Trelen added.  
"Wonderful We'll expect you back---," Mhera was cut off as Cook Truckel's assistant, a field mouse Leana, suddenly stood up, and walked to the head of the table, her eyes wide open but unseeing. The great hall went deadly quiet as Leana called out in a chanting dreamy voice.  
  
_"Beware the Ruthless One and his band. _
> 
> _Stay away from the shady woodlands. _
> 
> _Where he goes there is fear and hate, _
> 
> _He is the bringer of terrible fate. _
> 
> _Keep the babes inside these walls, _
> 
> _Let not one beast stray from Redwall."_  
  
Leana's eyes closed and then opened again. She blinked looking around her in surprise, "Why is everyone staring at me?"  
Mhera motioned for everyone to sit down, "Leana you were just chanting something. I did not catch all of it; do think you could repeat it. I think it was important."  
"I, I didn't realize I was chanting anything," the young mousemaid stuttered in confusion. "Was I?"  
Foremole waddled up, "Yesum ye was chantin' sometin' Miss Lawna. Mayhap tis e Marthen th' Woarrior tryin' to tell us'n somethin'."  
Mhera's mother, a kindly otter with graying fur named Filorn, smiled and put a comforting paw on the pretty mouse's shoulder. "Yes Foremole, I believe you are right. I caught the bit that mentioned staying away from the woodlands. I think Martin was warning us that somebeast is coming to the woodlands, one that would hurt us if given a chance."  
Deyna agreed, "I believe your right mother. Does anybeast remember it all?" A new addition to the Abbey dwellers, a shy hedgehog named Ellis clothed in the Abbey garb, came forward. Quietly, Brother Ellis spoke the verse word for word in a deep bass voice.  
  
_"Beware the Ruthless One and his band. _
> 
> _Stay away from the shady woodlands. _
> 
> _Where he goes there is fear and hate, _
> 
> _He is the bringer of terrible fate. _
> 
> _Keep the babes inside these walls, _
> 
> _Let not one beast stray from Redwall."  
_  
Noise arose from the Abbeybeasts as soon as Brother Ellis finished speaking. The Abbess stood up and asked for everyone to quiet down. As the talking died to a low murmur Mhera continued. "We are lucky you caught the whole rhyme Ellis. Thank you. Now, listen up everyone. It is clear that this 'Ruthless One' is evil and he has a group of followers. Most likely, he is some kind of vermin. It is also clear that Martin is warning us not to go into the woodlands. We should be even more careful than normal in keeping the dibbuns inside the Abbey. They'd go adventuring if we leave them unwatched. I know you are all shocked and surprised by this sudden warning, as am I, but we cannot ignore it. Deyna, Skipper, Foremole, and I will discuss a possible defense plan and tell you our ideas after the dibbuns have been sent off to bed tonight. Please just go on about your duties, we should still try to keep everything as normal as possible while this problem exists." Everyone began to leave their tables to go do as the Abbess suggested, still mulling over everything that had happened that morning. As Tuckel and Trelen left the great hall, Foremole could be heard muttering to the Abbess, "I um soire harppy Marthen told usn not to go outsiode Redwall, but aiore dibbuns won't be so harppy when they 'ear no strawberrin' tomorra!" Whispering in Tuckel's ear Trelen muttered, "Those dibbuns might not be 'harppy' with the Abbess's decision, but I don't have a problem with it!"


	4. Little Rescuers

Chapter 4  
  
Smargren paced restlessly in front of his tent, where was that infernal squirrel! His crew and slaves' fear of him would be lost if he didn't get that squirrel back and make an example of him! The pine martin not only needed to get a new ship but more slaves, losing one was yet another set back. Angrily he remembered the terrible hurricane that had destroyed the fastest ship he'd ever owned, the Wavebane, and killed half his crew. His furious thoughts stilled as he saw his last tracker come loping into view, at the fringe of Mossflower woods. After a few moments of running, the lean rat tracker came to a stop in front of his captain, gasping for breath. Hilth walked toward his uncle as the rat made his report.  
"M'lord. There's na sign of tha' old squirrel. I found 'is paw tracks as I came along a large, fas' runnin' stream but lost them afte' he took to the trees. For mor'en three hours I searched aroun' were I lost 'em. I wen' in about 'alf mile in all directions just ta be sure. As I was gonna turn to come back 'ere I saw smoke above some trees, to the west. Only 'bout a mile and a half from 'ere is a hotter camp, a large un. Ther's lots of able bodied beasts. There 're lots of young uns also."  
Smargren smiled slightly, an evil gleam lighting up his eyes. With a wicked laugh he turned to his nephew, "Gather everyone and tell 'em to get ready for battle," as he flipped out his silver dagger he whispered as if to himself, "We have some slaves to capture."  
  
Lignutt woke up slowly, the sharp, thudding pain in his head making him groan loudly. As he opened his blurry eyes he saw a dark shape lean over him. Fearfully, Lignutt put his paws in front of his face to protect himself.  
"Clik, clik. He's wakin' up! No need ta fear silly beast. Pligg, Jenn help me sit 'im up." Lignutt felt small but strong paws help lift his head and shoulders so he could sit up. He tried to speak but his mouth was paper dry. A wooden cup filled with cold water, was held up to the old squirrel's mouth. Lignutt drained the cup, his eyes now able to focus on the strange looking creatures before him. They were a third smaller than him and covered with leaves and dark colored cloth. Though it was hard to see them clearly in their camouflage he could tell that they slightly resembled squirrels. He also noticed that they lacked the long, furry tails that was so common to his kind.  
"Who are you? What are you?" He asked groggily. Several small voices laughed at this last question. One of the creatures came forward and took off the camouflage leaves and cloth covering its head and shoulders, showing light tan fur with two dark brown stripes running down his back, pointed ears, and a short tail. They were chipmunks.  
"We 're tribe Bunum of Mossflower. I'm Flicken, Chief of da tribe. We not hurt n'u. Rest, you mus' be tired. Wakey up in the mornin'g." As soon as the chief had said this Lignutt felt his eyes begin to droop. He was exhausted; he had run for hours, eaten very little, and had no sleep the previous night. The old squirrel smiled tiredly, he was safe and could leave his sorrows and fear behind in sleep.  
Turning away from the sleeping squirrel, Flicken, chief of the Chipmunks, walked over to young male chipmunk and sat down cross-legged. "Clik, clik that squirrel be very scared of something. Did ye notice how that beast looked when he woke up and we were standin' ove' him Pligg?" Pligg, the young male chipmunk, nodded, "Yes. He was afraid to be sure. I think 'e thought that we were someone else; as soon as 'e could see us clearly 'is face lost that hunted look." With a thoughtful expression on his face, Chief Flicken replied, "I believe what ye are sayin' is right. Clik, clik! Somebeast is chasing this squirrel." Gesturing towards the sleeping guest the Chipmunk Chief added, "While we tend to the squirrel send out searchin' parties. We musta know what is about in our forest that is so fearful."  
  
Russano walked down a long flight of stairs, leading to his bedchamber. His large paws thudded dully on the cool, sandstone floor. Torches, resting on little niches in the rock wall, flared and gutted low as he walked past, giving the impression that they were bowing to the great Badger Lord. He knew sleep would not come to him this night; it had evaded him for days, ever since the cursed pine martin and his band had disappeared. Though the Bloodrath did not overwhelm the badger at the thought of this enemy, he was very worried. He despised the ruthless pirate and his corsairs. He wanted to destroy them so that decent creatures could live in safety and peace. Russano's scouts were already abroad in Mossflower territory, he was positive that's where the corsairs were. He wouldn't abandon Salamandastron to kill the vermin, but he could send some of his hares to protect the beasts in that area. As Russano the Wise lay down on his bed he spoke aloud, though only he was in the room, "I will find you Smargren. Either I or another perilous beast will find you and put an end to your reign of fear and murder. Some beast, unafraid of you, will come along, this I promise." 


End file.
